


The Experiment

by abysmallydull



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-12-29
Updated: 2012-03-04
Packaged: 2017-10-28 10:39:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/307006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abysmallydull/pseuds/abysmallydull
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a silly idea of a woman's intuition vs. the science of deduction. Sarah and Sherlock are conducting an 'experiment' on one Dr. John Watson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"I need you to go to the Scotland Yard and get some reports for me," Sherlock said as soon as he heard John's steps coming down the stairs from the bedroom.

"I'm on my way to a date, Sherlock," John answered, not even slowing down as he took his jacket off the stand.

"Perfect. It's on the way to that new Italian place," Sherlock replied from behind the microscope. 

"How did you-... No, never mind. Why don't you go yourself?" 

"I'm busy, John," came Sherlock's slightly exasperated voice.

"Yeah, well so am I," John muttered. He shrugged on his jacket and put his hand on the doorknob. He looked back at Sherlock, who was still intently staring into the microscope. He hesitated a bit before turning the knob. Bad move.

"It's the Landon case files." Sherlock said as he picked up another dish containing who-knows-what. John groaned quietly.

"Anything else you want me to pick up on the way to  _my date_  tonight?"

"No, that would be all. Thank you, John."

John sighed. Apparently, the world's best observation and deduction skills do not include the ability to detect sarcasm. He pulled open the door and stepped out. He might as well pass by the Scotland Yard and get the files since it  _is_  on the way to the Italian restaurant. But damn him if he was going to go home early to hand in the files. He's planning on a very late night tonight. Hopefully that will discourage Sherlock from any similar errands in the future.

************

John supposed that he shouldn't be surprised at this point anymore. Nothing seems to go well when he's involved in anything related to Sherlock. Or maybe it was the other way around. Nothing seems to go well when Sherlock involves himself in John's plans. The simple task of getting the files from Scotland Yard has turned out to be anything but. Since Lestrade wasn't there, he's had to wait and be referred to another person, who asked him to wait again as said person had to make just a quick phone call to make sure everything checks out. He's on his third person now, and he's already late for his date but since he's put in the time to wait and was promised that they'll be with him in 5 minutes, he decided that he will get those bloody files if it's the last thing he does. But first he has to smack Sherlock upside on the head with them, of course.

He sent another message to Sarah, apologizing once more. He didn't bother making up another reason for being late; Sarah's too used to Sherlock interrupting their dates by now.

 _I'm really sorry. I promise I'll make it up to you. Won't be a few minutes now. - JW_

His phone beeped a reply.

 _Don't worry, John. Take your time. - Sarah_

John relaxed a little as he read Sarah's reply. He's lucky to have someone like her who can tolerate Sherlock. In fact, it seems that she's getting bothered less and less by Sherlock's repeated appearances on their dates. He sighed. Since when has Sherlock been such a regular fixture on their dates? Wait, no don't answer that. Of course since their first date.

"Dr. Watson?" came a young officer's voice. He was holding some files in his hand. John snapped out of his musings and stood up to acknowledge the young man.

"Yes, that's me."

"Here are the files you requested." The officer hesitated a bit.

"I understand, I'll keep the files safe," John said reassuringly. The young man nodded and handed the files to him. With a brief smile, John turned and practically ran out of the police station.

************

Sarah sat waiting at the table in the restaurant. She had arrived a few minutes later than their appointment, saw John wasn't there, and immediately knew it was because of Sherlock. She didn't need any skills in deduction to come to that conclusion. John was never late, and if he was, it was because of Sherlock. It was just as well that she brought in a book to read while she waited. Just a few minutes after she settled down, a message arrived from John, confirming her own conclusion that it was because of Sherlock that he was running late.

She was just a few pages into the book when she looked out to the street from the window and saw a familiar figure hurrying towards the restaurant. She smiled ruefully.

The chimes by the door jangled as the man entered and unerringly went straight to her table.

"Good evening."

"Good evening. Please, have a seat." Sarah couldn't keep the smile off her face.

"Thank you." He paused as he saw Sarah's expression. "You find this amusing," he stated.

"Well Sherlock, it  _is_  amusing, in a way. I mean, I'm waiting for my date to show up and you come in instead. And-" Sarah continued before Sherlock could say anything, "I know you've shown up on just about every date I've had with John but I do believe this is the first time that you actually showed up before he did."

"Yes, well, he's tied up at the Scotland Yard."

"On an errand for you."

"Yes."

Sarah raised an eyebrow.

"I've just realized that he might take long because Lestrade wasn't there. So I decided to come down here."

"To keep me company?"

Sherlock inclined his head and didn't disagree.

"You do realize that you could've just gone to the station and helped John out?"

"He doesn't need my help. My presence there will hardly make the files get to him faster."

"I suppose we can just wait for him together, then," Sarah said.

"That was the plan." 

"Do you mind if I order a little something while we're waiting?"

"Go ahead."

A companionable silence fell between them. They've gotten more used to each other over the many times they've spent in each other's company. Sherlock spent the time observing Sarah as she made up her mind as to what to order. He could almost hear her mind clicking as it worked. He was quite sure that she wasn't just contemplating the choice of appetizers in the restaurant.

"What is it?" Sherlock finally asked, getting a little impatient.

"Hm?" replied Sarah distractedly as she looked through the menu.

"You're not just contemplating food, you're thinking about something else."

Sarah closed the menu and looked back at Sherlock who has turned his laser beam eyes at her, looking as if he thought if he stared hard enough he could pull the thoughts from her head.

"I was wondering what time John would be getting here." Sarah answered.

"Given the way they work at the Yard, I would say half an hour or so. Next."

"All right, there has been something I've been wondering about." Sarah hesitated a bit.

Sherlock made an impatient noise. Sarah shook her head a little and chuckled.

"I've been thinking about your 'Science of Deduction'. I mean I know the method somewhat and I understand how it works. Given physical details you can work out a person's history and habits." Here Sarah looked at Sherlock for approval.

Sherlock nodded.

"I was wondering how accurate it is in predicting a person's reactions to certain actions or events."

"Quite accurate. People aren't nearly as interesting or mysterious as they like to think." Sherlock motioned to the waiter. “Let me give you an example.”

“Yes, sir?” The waiter said when he reached the table.

“She is going to have the tomato soup.”

“Will that be all?”

“For now, yes. Thank you.”

They were quiet at the table for a moment. Sarah looked at Sherlock. Sherlock quirked an eyebrow.

“If you’re going to say it’s obvious-” Sarah began.

“It _is_ obvious. Just three points: the weather, John’s arrival, and your diet. Oh, plus the fact that you didn’t really bother looking through the rest of the menu, but just focused on the first few entries. So make that four points.”

“All right. Your powers of deduction are certainly impressive.”

“But?”

“It’s not a ‘but’. I just wanted to say that women too, have a little something of our own called ‘a woman’s intuition’ which can be quite accurate at times.”

Sherlock did not look convinced, which was unsurprising. ‘Intuition’ was too much like guesswork to him, too hit or miss. And while it is true that it can be right at times, it was too unscientific.

“How about we put it to the test?” Sarah suggested.

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s pit a woman’s intuition against the science of deduction.”

Sherlock snorted. “If things were that simple, then we should’ve had only women detectives.”

“Well, that’s the downside of a woman’s intuition: it works only with people we know.”

At that, Sherlock turned to regard Sarah a little more closely. This was slowly starting to sound a little more interesting.

“I’m sure you already realize where this is going.”

“John.”

“Yes.”

“You’re proposing to do an experiment on John?”

“It’s not an experiment. It’s more like testing intuition against deduction.”

Sherlock waved his hand dismissively. An experiment is an experiment.

“So how do you suggest going about this experiment?” Sherlock asked.

“Fine. Experiment it is, then.”

“You know it is.”

“I was thinking of something not very complicated. Just action and reaction. The action will be the trigger and we will both use our respective ‘abilities’ to determine how John will react.”

“How do we determine the action?”

“We can take turns suggesting it? That way it will be fair for both parties.”

“So we’ll be doing a series of actions?”

“Isn’t that how experiments are supposed to be carried out?”

“Quite.”

Sherlock considered Sarah’s proposal. It was ridiculous, to be honest: pitting his science of deduction against a woman’s intuition. This experiment is hardly scientific and has no benefit whatsoever for his work or his mental development. But here was a chance to prove a point _and_ conduct an experiment on John. He would be lying if he said that wasn’t even a little bit interesting. He had always found his flatmate something of a puzzle, and doing this experiment would be a step to solving the mystery that is John Watson.

“So when are we starting?”

Sarah looked a little surprised. She’d half-expected the proposal to be dismissed. She thought for a moment.

“How about let’s do a test run first? I suggest the first ‘action’ to be your coming here on my date with John before he could even arrive. After all, this is the first time it has happened which will make it a good one to start with.”

“Fine,” Sherlock agreed.

“And here,” Sarah took out a notebook and tore out two leaves. “We can each write how we think John would react here. I won’t look at what you write so you can’t say that I’ve been influenced by your ideas.”

Sherlock took the sheet of paper. He put the tip of the pen to it, ready to write and found that it was more difficult that he’d imagined. Perhaps it was because of his personal involvement in the experiment. But he needs to be detached. He is going to look at it as just one more challenge added to this endeavour. He looked up to see Sarah scribbling away. He scowled. So that was one more challenge added. He started writing.

 _Surprised._ This is expected. Anyone would be surprised in that situation, so it doesn’t count.

 _Pleased._ He imagined that John, being a kind person, would find his gesture thoughtful. After all, he had gone to the trouble of finishing up his experiment quickly and then staying to accompany Sarah while she waited. He paused. He wondered if he should add more details or just leave it as it is. He could write down the state of John’s clothes once he arrives at the restaurant out of the rain. He is confident he will be quite accurate. But he supposed those details are unnecessary in their experiment. He decided to leave things simple first. Later, he and Sarah would discuss what details are necessary.

“All right?” Sarah asked.

Sherlock passed the piece of paper to Sarah wordlessly. She took it, folded it in half, and slid it with her own slip of paper back into the notebook. They waited in silence.

The bells by the door chimed once more as John entered the restaurant. He hadn’t brought an umbrella when he went out; he didn’t anticipate that it would be raining. He tried to brush a few stray droplets of water from his hair. He looked around at the restaurant, and was surprised to see the tall figure of his friend seated across the table from a woman…who is _his date_ , Sarah! He stalked to the table. Only the presence of Sarah prevented him from smacking the files he’d kept dry inside his coat on Sherlock’s head.

“Sherlock,” John gritted out in greeting to Sherlock.

“Hello, John,” said Sherlock, trying not to aggravate John further when he saw that he was definitely not pleased.

“Sarah, I’m so sorry I was late,” this time directed to Sarah.

“Don’t worry about it, John. No harm done,” Sarah said, with an easy smile. John took the empty chair and sat down. The waiter came over shortly to bring them a menu. Sarah took the opportunity while John was reading to pass the slip of paper she wrote on to Sherlock. Sherlock knew without even reading it that Sarah got it correctly, just judging from the way that she could barely suppress a grin from breaking out. Still, he opened it.

 _I think that John would be furious to find Sherlock in the restaurant. From what I know, Sherlock sent John out on an errand just before our date. Seeing Sherlock in the restaurant kind of shows that Sherlock could have done the errand himself instead of asking John to do it._

 _Now Sherlock, you need to apologize and at least offer to pay for dinner. Actually, forget paying for dinner – the apology at this point is more important._

There were arguments that he wanted to say against what Sarah had written down, but he knew that he wouldn’t say them because the proof was here: John was barely holding himself back from smacking him with the files, no doubt and for the reason most likely stated in the note he had in his hand right now.

“John,” Sherlock began.

John sighed and continued looking at the menu. He was quite sure that Sherlock would just come up with explanations as to why he, not Sherlock, had to go to the Yard at that time. He’s not sure he wants to hear them at the moment.

“I’m sorry,” Sherlock continued.

John stopped looking at the menu immediately and turned to face Sherlock, who was doing his best to avoid looking at him. He waited for more explanation, but apparently that was all Sherlock was willing to say. Still, it was more than what he expected.

“It’s fine, Sherlock. Don’t worry about it,” John found himself saying. He really couldn’t stay mad at Sherlock, especially now after that apology. Suddenly in a better mood and appetite, John called the waiter to place his order.

Sherlock, in the meantime, was watching John and observing the change in mood. Sarah was right on two points there. He knew that it was only a test run, but he also knew that this round goes to Sarah.


	2. Chapter 2

John was convinced that Sherlock was mad. It wasn’t the first time he actually thought it, but it was becoming worse. He put his hand on the refrigerator door handle with trepidation. Sherlock does put things (or more specifically body parts) that don’t belong in it. But after a while, one tends to get used to it so it’s not as bad as it was at the start. The problem now was, he didn’t know what to expect.  Two weeks ago, he had opened the door to find that their fridge was stocked with food, and without a human body part to be seen. Sherlock said that his shell-shocked expression was the same as the first time he opened the fridge to a severed head.

And so that glorious week continued, with him finding food every time he opened the fridge. The food slowly wound down, so he went to get the groceries, getting more than the usual since they now had enough space to actually hold food.

He supposed he should’ve known that it was too good to last. No sooner than he’d thought it was nice to have some normalcy in at least one aspect of his life with Sherlock, he’d opened the fridge to find not one, but two severed heads, and not a scrap of food anywhere.  It has been a week since, and to his dismay, he found himself actually getting used to a human body parts-to-food ratio of about 9:1.

Well, dawdling around the fridge door was not going to change what was already inside it, so he just braced himself and opened the door. He half-expected the little remaining food to be completely swallowed by the experimental body parts, but to his relief, it was back to the usual 50-50.

“Are you cooking dinner?” Sherlock asked from where he was busy typing on John’s laptop.

“I wanted to, yeah. But it looks like the food here still isn’t enough for a meal for two,” John answered, still contemplating the contents of the fridge.

“You won’t need to cook for two.”

“You’re not eating again?”

“No, we’re not eating here,” Sherlock said as he closed the laptop and crossed the room to the kitchen, closed the fridge door, and steered John towards the front door.

“Where are we going?” John asked even as he donned the jacket Sherlock handed to him.

“Check your phone,” was the enigmatic answer he got as Sherlock jogged down the steps of their flat. At that moment, his phone beeped.

“It’s Sarah. She said that she’s in the area and she’s wondering if we can join her at Angelo’s,” John read from his phone. “Sherlock!” He called out, as he ran to catch up with Sherlock, who was already out the front door and about to cross the street.

“Angelo’s, is it?” Sherlock asked, not even looking back to see if John had caught up, but instead crossing the street in long strides.

“Yes,” John huffed as he jogged to keep up. “You and Sarah made plans?”

“No, she made the plans. She just texted you, didn’t she?”

“Yes, she…” John gave up trying to make sense of how Sherlock knew. He thought it better to save his breath since he would be needing it to keep up with Sherlock’s pace. Soon enough, they were once more inside the cosy restaurant, seated at the ‘best table in the house’.

“So, how are you two gents?” Sarah asked, once they’ve settled into their seats. She posed the question to both of them, but it was clear from the way she was looking at John that she wanted to hear most from him. She knew that she was the one who suggested starting the experiment, but she’d been getting more and more worried over John as Sherlock’s suggested ‘actions’ were becoming more and more elaborate. It seemed that Sherlock has decided that the previous actions were too simple and too ordinary, that’s why Sarah was getting them right.

“Good, all good,” John answered, “although the past two weeks have been…interesting.”

“Yeah?” Sarah prompted.

“Oh yes, definitely,” John said with conviction while Sherlock huffed on his side of the table.

“Tell me what happened.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes and tried to keep himself from commenting that Sarah already knew what happened, what was the point of asking John?

“Where do I begin…”

* * *

A few dishes and a glass or two of wine later, John was really getting into the swing of things. Although Sarah did know what the proposed actions were and the results, Sherlock had been reticent on the details, predictably not wanting to elaborate on what he thought were his failures.

“So we were in the cab, going to a crime scene, when he starts cracking these knock-knock jokes.”

Sherlock scowled and stabbed the chicken with his fork. He has long since given up pretending to eat and was just now mutilating whatever it was on his plate. That proposed action was certainly not among his stellar ideas, and he can’t even blame Sarah for it since he came up with it on his own.

“Well, obviously that didn’t go well since you didn’t know what the proper response to a knock-knock joke is,” Sherlock interrupted, unable to stay silent anymore.

“No, Sherlock, I know the proper response to them,” John said over Sarah’s gasping laughs, grinning madly as well. “But that was just, oh, I don’t have words for it, it was…it is something I will cherish forever.”

“It didn’t seem like you wanted to cherish it when we were in the taxi,” Sherlock pointed out.

“I thought you had gone completely round the bend,” John agreed. “I wanted to ask the cabbie to turn around and take us to a hospital instead.”

“Why are you only talking about me? What about Sarah? She’s been strange the past two weeks, too,” Sherlock grumbled.

“Who, me?” Sarah asked innocently, as she fluffed her now-blond hair.

“Women change their looks all the time, Sherlock,” John said in her defence. “Besides, she looks lovely.”

“Thank you, John. Although I think I might go back to being a brunette after all.”

“Oh, thank God,” John teased.

“You said you liked it!” Sarah said in mock outrage.

Sherlock watched the whole exchange with something close to bewilderment. He will never understand how human interaction works.

John caught the look on Sherlock’s face and reached across the table to grasp his hand.

“She’s terrible as a blonde, isn’t she?” John indicated Sarah with a jerk of his head.

Sherlock looked at Sarah who was fighting back the smile that threatened to break through.

“Yes,” Sherlock said with his usual acerbity, and the laugh that was just underneath the surface finally broke through, with Sarah and John indulging in it, while Sherlock allowed a small smile. Maybe he can get behind this whole human interaction thing after all.

They stayed for some moments more while John regaled Sarah with more stories of the strange going-ons of the past two weeks.  Finally, John decided that Sherlock’s probably have had enough; he appreciated that his friend had kept his scathing remarks to a minimum but he didn’t know how much longer Sherlock could hold himself back. They finished up the remaining wine and then asked for the bill. As usual, Angelo refused any offers of paying for their meal, and threatened them with packing food for them to take home. They thanked him profusely instead and got away with hearty claps on the back for the boys, and a kiss on the cheek for Sarah.

“Thanks for calling us out for dinner,” John said to Sarah as they waited on the curb for a taxi.

“No problem. I enjoyed it,” Sarah said. Truth to be told, she knew about the refrigerator experiment and was worried that John might not be having proper meals. Plus, she wanted to know how John was holding up in general. It was good to see that he’d at least found Sherlock’s ‘actions’ amusing.

A taxi stopped in front of them, flagged down by Sherlock.

“Well, I’ll be off then,” Sarah said to both. “Thanks,” she said as she squeezed Sherlock’s arm in good bye.  Sherlock gave a short nod. Sarah walked over to John, who was holding the door open.

“Good night. See you soon,” she said and gave a light kiss on John’s check.

“Good night,” John replied. Sarah got in the taxi and moments later she was gone.

It was quiet for a few moments as they started their walk back to their flat. Then Sherlock spoke.

“To be fair, the goat-…”

“No, Sherlock. There’s nothing you can say that will change my mind.”

Sherlock remained silent. John looked at Sherlock and saw the stubborn set to the other man’s jaw. Well, Sherlock’s not the only one with a stubborn streak.

“No animals in the flat ever again. If you’re doing an experiment that requires livestock, do it somewhere else.”

“Well, the important part was done anyway. It just seemed a waste not to investigate further since the goat was already there.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Just think of the possibilities.”

“What new insight can you possibly gain with a goat experiment?” And as soon as the words left John’s lips, he knew that it was the wrong question to ask.

They spent the remainder of the walk home arguing the merits and demerits of a goat experiment.

* * *

The next morning saw Mrs. Hudson in their flat.

“No pets or other animals in the flat, you hear?” Mrs. Hudson lectured.

Sherlock shot John a dirty look. “You cheated!”

John shrugged and hid his smile behind his teacup. Mrs. Hudson was still talking.

“I don’t know how anything will survive here, anyway. Look at the mess!” She started her regimented tidying up whenever she was in their flat.

“Oh, you’d be surprised at what can actually live and thrive inside a flat,” Sherlock remarked.

John coughed in warning. Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he conceded.

Mrs. Hudson patted his check affectionately as she walked past where he was sitting on his arm chair.

“All right, boys. I have to go, Mr. Clark and I are going out for brunch,” said Mrs. Hudson, practically skipping out the door.

“Mr. Clark?” John asked Sherlock.

“Boyfriend.”

“Since when?”

“Close to a month now.”

“She’s never mentioned anyone.”

“Colours.”

“Excuse me?”

“Mrs. Hudson’s given up her traditional purple for lighter colours which make her look younger. She’s also started wearing a different colour lipstick. Obviously she wanted to impress someone. All happened about a month back.”

“Oh,” John said.

“What?”

“I didn’t know you had an eye for colour.”

“You’d have noticed it too if you weren’t so blind to the obvious.”

John snorted a laugh. “Right, of course.”

He finished his tea and deposited his cup on the sink before walking to the front door and putting on his jacket.

“I’m going to work,” John said to his flatmate who was now preoccupied with something on his laptop.

“I know.”

“All right then. I’ll see you later.”

“Yes, see you later,” Sherlock replied, eyes still glued to the screen. He waited until he heard the front door close before he whipped out his mobile. Text messages were exchanged in the next few minutes and then he too donned his coat and went out.

* * *

Sherlock picked a table where he can watch the street outside but still have a decent view of the other tables in the café. He passed the time by deducing things about people around him. A cursory glance served to tell him that there’s an engineering student fresh from an all-nighter, a young mother who’d just dropped off her son at school, and a couple – no, they’re not yet officially a couple – two people doing the whole “getting to you know you” thing. He decided to give himself more of a challenge and so focused on only one person and tried to deduce as much and as far back as he could. He’d gotten as far back as “abandonment issues as a child” for the student before Sarah came in.

“Hi, I’m sorry. Have you been waiting long?” she asked as she reached Sherlock’s table.

“No. I wanted to come in earlier, anyway.”

“Oh, all right.”

“You said that you needed to talk with me.”

“Yes, I do,” Sarah took a seat across from him. Sherlock watched her closely.

“It’s about the experiment,” he said with certainty.

“Yes.”

“You want to call it off.”

“I think we should tell John. Besides, we have enough data to come to a conclusion.”

“Which is?”

“Well, based on our experiment, I can therefore conclude that while you’re absolutely brilliant when deducing things about other people, you are completely clueless when it comes to John.”

Sherlock paused. He’d been prepared for a different sort of conclusion – something along the lines of how a woman’s intuition is better than his science of deduction. He’d been prepared to contest that conclusion; he had his deductions about the people in the café to support his claim.

“That wasn’t what we were testing for,” he said instead.

“But you can’t deny that it’s correct.”

“I can read John’s history as clearly as any other person, and given that we’ve been living together, I know most of his habits, and those that I don’t know I can easily deduce.”

“But we’re not talking about his history or habits. The experiment was about how he would react to certain actions or situations.”

“He doesn’t react like other people I’ve met. It’s not logical.”

 “You know Sherlock, you can’t solve everything with logic. Especially when it comes to matters of the heart.”

Sherlock frowned. “What do you mean, ‘matters of the heart?’”

“Just trust me on this, Sherlock. You should listen to your heart sometimes, not just your head.”

Sherlock continued frowning. Sarah sighed. She tried to explain in less ‘emotional’ terms.

“Go with your gut. You’ve seen from the experiment that logic will only take you so far with John.”

Sherlock considered Sarah’s words. Could that be the piece missing to unlocking the mystery of John Watson?

“All right, one final test then,” Sarah proposed. “The last action would be telling John about the experiment.”

“Fine,” Sherlock agreed.

“But let’s do it a little bit differently this time,” Sarah said. She took out her notebook once more, tore out two leaves and gave both to Sherlock. Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

“Write two answers. One based on your logic, and the other based on your gut feeling.”

“Aren’t you going to write anything?”

“I know that what you write down based on your gut feeling would be the correct one. Take that as my answer.”

Sherlock quirked a smile. “You’re very confident.”

“Women’s intuition.”

Sherlock took a pen from his pocket and started writing down his thoughts. He folded them both and slid them across to Sarah.

“So when do you want to tell John?” Sarah asked.

“The sooner the better,” Sherlock answered. “Since we’re done with the experiments, there’s no reason to delay.” Besides, he wanted to find out as soon as possible whether he had gotten it right.

“Tonight, then?”

“All right.”

After a few more words, they parted ways; Sarah went back to the clinic, and Sherlock to the flat. There were experiments to be done, but somehow Sherlock found himself standing in front of the mantel and staring at the skull. He was thinking about tonight with a sort of nervous anticipation. 


	3. Chapter 3

John jogged up the 17 steps (yes, he started _observing_ after Sherlock gave another one of his speeches) to their flat, eager to just sit back and settle in for some takeaway and crap telly for the rest of the evening. He’d been at the clinic later than he expected which was exhausting on its own, and well, after dispensing so much ‘healthy living’ advice, he wanted nothing more than to do quite the opposite. He opened the door to the flat, expecting to find Sherlock wrapped up in another of his experiments, but instead he was greeted with a quiet and empty flat. He couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed – after all, half the fun of watching telly was having Sherlock complain on the side. He pulled out his phone instead and texted a message to his absent flatmate.

_Where are you? – JW_

He waited for a few moments expectantly. Sherlock always replied within seconds. When no reply seemed to be forthcoming, he briefly debated texting Lestrade before deciding that since Mycroft wasn’t calling him yet, Sherlock must be in no immediate danger. He pocketed his phone and walked instead to the fridge, absently looking over its meagre contents. Definitely a takeaway night tonight. 

He went back to the sitting room and turned on the telly and ran a list of restaurants in his head. The light electronic buzz of people talking filled the room, but it still felt empty without the presence of his flatmate. He knew that he frequently complained about the racket Sherlock makes, but it was a bit unsettling to actually be able to watch the telly in peace. Right then, make that a pub night instead.

He had already put his jacket back on when his phone beeped.

_Stay there. – SH_

John frowned at the phone, pocketed it, and opened the door. The phone beeped again.

_10 minutes. – SH_

He sighed, kept his jacket on (just in case), and settled in front of the telly once more. He wondered if he would have time to eat anything today, or if it’s going to be a ‘case night’ and he’d have to spend the next few hours running around. Luckily for him, he didn’t have to wait long to find out, as after a few minutes, he heard the front door open and close, steps ascend the stairs, and finally see the door to their flat open to admit Sherlock, and surprisingly, Sarah.

“Good evening,” Sarah greeted.

“Hi,” John answered, his brow wrinkling in question. He looked at Sherlock, who was placing bags of what appeared to be food on his desk.

“I thought you’d be hungry,” Sarah said. She walked over to the desk and took over unpacking the food.

“Ah, yes. Thank you, I’m starving,” John said, still wearing a confused expression on his face and only snapped out of it as he realised that Sarah didn’t know where they kept their plates and Sherlock, who was now sitting on his chair, seemed indisposed to help, which meant he had to set the table. 

“So, did something happen today?” John asked.

“Hmm, sort of,” Sarah answered noncommittally.

John frowned and paused in setting the table. “Something bad?” he asked, his eyes automatically going to Sherlock. Sherlock stared stubbornly ahead, ignoring John’s questioning look. 

“No, nothing like that,” Sarah answered. “Come on, let’s talk over dinner. I’m hungry too.”

John took a seat across Sarah and was surprised when Sherlock walked over to join them at the table.

“Oh. You’re eating? I’ll get you a plate,” John said, preparing to stand up. Sherlock just shook his head and remained silent, this time his gaze boring a hole in the wall behind Sarah. A somewhat awkward silence fell over the group as John and Sarah began eating, but if Sherlock noticed it, he gave no indication.

Sherlock had originally planned to see John at the surgery and end the experiment right then and there – so much was his impatience to find out how John would react. It was lucky (well, time will tell once they actually finish the experiment) that Sarah was in the surgery as well to stop Sherlock from barging in while John was in the middle of a consultation. Sarah saw the state Sherlock was in and quickly decided that he couldn’t be left alone, so she begged off work early and took Sherlock with her. Unfortunately, her leaving meant John had to cover for her, which ultimately meant that John would come home late, tired, and hungry from work. He would be in no proper state to receive news that the two people closest to him had been performing an experiment on him.

Sarah had suggested that they wait until tomorrow to deliver the news to ensure that John was in a better mood, and Sherlock in a better state of mind. Sherlock argued that that would be manipulating the circumstances. They’ve reached a compromise and agreed to tell John after dinner.

Sherlock pursed his lips and clenched his fists on his lap, unclenched them, clasped them together, unclasped them, put them on top of the table where they started drumming against the wood, noticed it, moved to steeple them together where they started drumming against each other, noticed it again, and at last decided to return them clenched on his lap. He felt as if he couldn’t wait a minute more, or he could wait a whole lifetime to tell John. One thing is for certain though, if he stopped staring at the wall, if he said even one word before dinner finished, there would be no stopping.

John could feel the tension running off of Sherlock in almost palpable waves. However, Sarah seemed set on acting normal and it didn’t look like Sherlock was up for talking, and the man can be very stubborn, so he decided that he was going to eat his meal while he had the chance. He finished the food on his plate and set down his fork with a quiet clink on his plate.

“John,” Sherlock said, finally breaking his silence. John turned to look at him expectantly, as did Sarah. Sherlock stopped. The silence was thick in the room.

So here’s the short of it: Sherlock was tongue-tied. The long of it was, as Sherlock would later explain to himself, he had too many things he wanted to say, so many points he wanted to start from and elaborate, and so many ways of explaining why they did what they did, and why it was not a completely crazy idea.

Sherlock furrowed his brow and looked slightly bewildered as if he couldn’t quite understand the situation. Sarah saw this, and decided to step in.

“So Sherlock and I were doing this sort of…test-”

“Experiment,” Sherlock interrupted.

“All right, experiment and-”

“You didn’t kill anyone, did you?” This time, it was John who interrupted Sarah.

“Of course not,” Sherlock huffed, “our subject is very much alive.”

“Sherlock…” Sarah said, a bit in warning. She cleared her throat. “Anyway, the idea was we wanted to test his science of deduction against a woman’s intuition, mainly how effective would it be in predicting a person’s reactions to certain things.”

She looked at John. He was still waiting expectantly, slowly getting more intrigued. She took a deep breath. Now here was the hard part.

This time it was Sherlock who stepped in.

“Obviously, a woman’s intuition has certain limitations that my science of deduction doesn’t; it apparently works best with people one knows, although if one believes stories and various accounts, it also is quite accurate in dangerous situations, but which nevertheless narrowed our field of test subjects considerably.”

If Sherlock had hoped to confuse or impress John with his detailed albeit roundabout response, it didn’t work. John’s too used to him.

“Me. You conducted an experiment on me,” John said. It wasn’t even a question.

“Listen, John…” Sarah began.

“When did this start?” John asked.

“15 days ago,” Sherlock answered. John shifted in his seat a bit so he could look alternately between Sarah and Sherlock. Sarah looked worried and Sherlock just looked his normal self. John noticed Sherlock’s clenched fist on his lap. All right, perhaps a bit tense. They were, he realised, worried if he would be angry or not.

John frowned a bit in thought. He was still undecided on that anger issue. He needed more data.

“So how exactly did it work?”

“It’s quite simply actually; we decide on an action, which would trigger a reaction from you and we tally results on who was most successful in predicting it,” Sarah explained.

John paused as he considered this. And then, an expression of recognition registers on his face. “Was that why you have been acting so strangely these past couple of weeks?” He asked Sarah.

“Guilty,” Sarah admitted. “Sherlock too, had his share of actions.”

“Oh,” John said, now looking at Sherlock, frowning a little, “I suppose I have to agree that you have been acting strangely too, but you started doing that much earlier than two weeks ago.” 

“All my actions have a purpose. _Especially_ the ones for this experiment,” Sherlock said pointedly, looking insulted. He relaxed at John’s jibe, though. Sarah lost the worried frown creasing her brow and laughed.

“So what were the results?” John asked, genuinely curious.

Sarah looked over to Sherlock for a moment, who was now rolling his eyes. “The science of deduction just got its arsed kicked,” Sarah said with relish. John laughed at that.

“Somehow, I’m not really surprised,” he said with a smile.

* * *

Sherlock thought that the confession went well. John didn’t get angry; he actually laughed and asked for more details on some of the not-so-obvious actions they’ve taken. And, he did get John’s reaction right, in the end. All was good. And life went on as before in 221B. The experiment was over.

However, Sherlock had underestimated the effect that seemingly simple experiment has. Because the experiment has forced him to consider John’s reactions to his actions very closely, he now sees with great clarity the way John’s mood would change at a few sharp words from him, spoken in impatience or irritation. Or how, when he tried doing a small act of, not even kindness, courtesy, like pay for the cab since John paid for it all the time, he was met with confusion and a bit of suspicion.

In short, he’s now seeing how much he has taken John for granted. It wasn’t a pleasant realisation.

He sighed and looked out of the window. He was once more having “dinner” with Sarah and John, but thankfully they didn’t push it when he said that he really didn’t want to eat anything. He looked at Sarah and John conversing while they were eating and suddenly felt like an outsider. He wanted to leave, except he didn’t want Sarah and John to be alone together. He shifted in his seat and crossed his arms.

John seemed to notice his mood (although how, he still can’t tell no matter how hard he observes) and shifted so that he’s slightly closer to him. John doesn’t pause in his conversation though; it seemed he did that almost unconsciously. How can John read him perfectly while he fails at it completely? It was frustrating. He went back to brooding and only snapped out of it when he heard John speak.

“Sorry, we’ve got to go back straight to the flat,” John was saying to Sarah. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the surgery.”

“All right. Good night, you two,” Sarah said looking at John and Sherlock. It seemed she wanted to say something to Sherlock but the moment passed and she just gave a smile instead.

The ride home was silent. The short walk up their flat was also silent. In fact, the next few days were silent. That itself shouldn’t be worrying; it sometimes happens that Sherlock doesn’t speak for days. But that only happens when Sherlock is wrapped up in a case or in an experiment. And as far as John can see, there are no on-going experiments or cases.

Talking to him doesn’t help. He just gets ignored. He was just debating whether or not to get Mrs. Hudson involved (and if it would be worth the resentment that’s sure to follow) since he was getting worried when unexpectedly, Sherlock broke the silence himself.

“Are you and Sarah together?” Sherlock asked.

Sherlock normally doesn’t ask direct questions like that, and certainly not one that seems so _obvious_. And Sherlock had tried to figure it out during the past couple of days. He’d been doing some intensive research on the internet, gone out and observed couples, and briefly considered asking Lestrade before he changed his mind. It was better to just ask John.

“Excuse me?” John asked, having not quite heard what Sherlock said since he was caught completely off-guard at the fact that Sherlock was speaking again.

“Are you and Sarah together? Boyfriend-girlfriend,” Sherlock clarified.

“Unfortunately, after that very memorable date at the circus, she decided that it’s not going to work between us. But, we’ve remained friends which is good, I think. She would never have stayed so long if we’d been together,” John admitted a bit ruefully. “Why are you asking this now?”

“Friends. Like how we’re friends?” Sherlock ignored John’s question.

“Well, perhaps not exactly the same,” John answered honestly.

Sherlock thought about that and somehow understood that while Sarah was John’s friend, he was John’s best friend, and he would always come first.

“We’re going out!”Sherlock announced, heading for the door. John was already on his feet before he asked, “Where are we going?”

“Dinner! My treat,” Sherlock said, and you could hear that he’s pleased just from the tone of his voice. 

“What’s the occasion?” John asked with a smile on his face. Sherlock’s moods can be quite contagious sometimes.

“Us!”


End file.
